Drunken Fun
by jhoom
Summary: While the crew parties at Afterlife, Garrus has a little too much to drink and needs Shepard's help getting back to the ship. But when they get back, is Shepard really just going to pass up this opportunity? Masskink meme fill. M rating for lemony goodnes
1. Shepard

**AN: **This is a fill for the masskink meme. Saw the prompt a little while ago and was intrigued by it. As usual for my masskink fills, M rating is for smut.

Thinking of adding a second chapter that would be Garrus' POV.

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><p><strong>Drunken Fun<strong>

Shepard wasn't one for drinking. Not usually anyway. Sure, she'd have a beer every now and then, but she usually didn't set out with the intention of getting drunk. Apparently she was the only member of her crew like that.

The Normandy had docked at Omega a few days ago to deal with Morinth. Because it had been a stressful couple of weeks – but then again, when _wasn't_ it stressful when you're trying to save the known universe? – Shepard had told the crew they were on shore leave until further notice. Miranda had been upset, but Shepard reminded her that at the moment they didn't really have any leads on the Collectors. Until the Illusive Man got them more info, there really wasn't much for the crew to do except kill random mercs (fun) or scour random planets for minerals (decidedly _not_ fun).

Which was how Shepard came to be sitting at the bar at Afterlife, watching half her crew dancing (though from most of what she saw, dancing should be in quotes) and throwing back drink after drink. Jack was all over Jacob, much to his chagrin. Miranda, even though she had protested so vehemently the idea of the crew coming to the club together, seemed to be enjoying Jacob's discomfort as she danced nearby with a couple very good-looking men. Joker was sitting at the table closest to the dance floor, subtly shooting spitballs at Grunt whenever the krogan's back was turned. Kasumi was trying to show Tali how to dance, and despite her best efforts was failing (that quarian just had _no_ rhythm to speak of).

And then there was Garrus. Although Shepard would have paid _tons_ of money to see him on the dance floor (there was really no limit to the amount of credits she'd lay down), he was at the other end of the bar talking to one of the turian bartenders. She could tell from his body language that he was telling war stories. When else did he look that animated or excited unless it was describing how he'd sniped some unsuspecting enemy through the eyes?

She unconsciously licked her lips. She'd been harboring a crush for the turian ever since she'd found out he was Archangel. Goofy, adorable but capable Garrus from the Normandy SR1? Great friend and trusted ally. Badass Garrus holding off three gangs of mercs? Alone? For days? _Hot._

Shepard took another sip of her drink. It was something fruity and green that she didn't really care for, but Kelly had ordered it for her and she didn't want to hurt the Yeoman's feelings. Wincing slightly at the too sweet slush, she continued to eye Garrus. Something about his lithe form, his intense eyes… Nevermind the graceful way he moved on the battlefield… And that voice…

Yeah, no doubt about it. She had it bad for her gunnery officer.

As the hours went by, Shepard slowly finished off a couple more drinks. Nothing excessive. She was a little tipsy, but she was in _much_ better condition than the rest of the Normandy crew. Every now and then one of them stopped by to say good-bye, usually leaving in groups because none of them were sober enough to walk to the ship without leaning on each other for support. Even the prim and proper Miss Lawson graciously accepted Grunt's help back. And it was just _too_ hilarious watching Jacob have to carry back both Joker and Jack.

It was late in the night when she realized she was the only one left. Even though she hadn't been dancing, she was enjoying the music and being able to just sit there and not worry about anything. It had been easy for her to get lost in that sort of freedom, the lack of responsibility. She motioned for the bartender to give her one last round, which she polished off in a couple gulps. Shepard felt a little stiff as she stood up, stretching slightly.

She didn't notice him until she had almost passed by.

Apparently Shepard wasn't the last of the crew to leave. Because there he was, cradling what must have been his twentieth drink of the night (if the number of empty glasses around him were any indication). He was swaying slightly, but not with the music. It was more of the "I can barely stay upright" type of swaying.

She raised an eyebrow. "Garrus?"

He turned to look at her, then gave a smile. At least she _thought_ it was a smile. She wasn't great at the whole turian expressions thing, but she was usually pretty good at reading Garrus. But the drunken look in his eyes made her unsure.

"Shep-" he hiccuped slightly. "Shepard." His normal cadence was made all the more seductive by the slight slur. What had started as a smile turned into an outright grin as he visibly checked her out head to toe. "I missed you."

She blushed a little. "Alright, Garrus, I think you've had a couple too many."

He shook his head and laughed slightly. "I'm fine *hic* fine, Commander. Turians *hic* turians handle their liquor a little better than *hic* than you *hic* humans do."

"Well, that's good to hear soldier." God, why'd he have to be so cute when he was drunk? It'd make it easier for her to keep a straight face. "Even so, why don't we get you back to the ship?"

"Mm 'kay," he said, pushing away from the counter.

She honestly could never remember him even taking a drink, much less being this drunk. It was almost endearing to see him stumble to his feet. He only made it about half a step before he started to fall. She caught him easily (though damn if he wasn't heavy) and positioned his left arm around her shoulders. "Alright, big guy, let's get you back to the Normandy."

He babbled the whole way back. She couldn't make out half of it. Sometimes he'd say something about mercs, sometimes Geth, sometimes C-Sec. She was really confused when he mentioned her "flexibility" and his "reach." Honestly, she wasn't paying much attention to him. He really was heavier than he looked, even in his civvies, and even if she was only a little buzzed, it was hard walking in a straight line while supporting him.

Shepard wasn't even sure how they made it down to the main battery. She was somewhat relieved they hadn't passed anyone on their way through the ship. Even EDI hadn't made an appearance. The idea of the Commander helping one of her subordinates to his room because he was too drunk… The implications were too embarrassing and she didn't really want to think about. And her face went scarlet just thinking about how scandalous Kasumi or Kelly would make it sound if they were the ones to catch them.

She sighed in relief as she set him on the edge of his cot. She'd never asked him why he preferred sleeping in here over the crew quarters. She was extremely curious, but didn't want to pry into something that was too personal for a commanding officer to want to know.

Garrus slumped back against the wall, watching her with a dazed expression. He didn't seem to be quite all there at the moment. She had expected him to thank her or at least say something to acknowledge the fact that she had practically carried him across Omega.

It had felt amazing to have her arm around him. To feel those strong muscles under those smooth, hard plates. She'd touched him before, but always in battle. Always pushing or pulling each other to safety. And always through armor. No time for hands to linger. To secretly explore his back, trailing slowly down to his hips and that glorious turian ass…

Her hands twitched slightly as she thought about it. She looked him over. His eyes were half closed, his breathing was becoming deeper. He'd probably be asleep soon. And he was drunk. Chances of him remembering any of this? Slim to none. Right?

Of its own accord, her hand went up to his fringe. She paused for a second. Wondered if this was really a good idea. But in her tired and somewhat inebriated state, she couldn't find a reason to stop herself.

_It's now or never, Shepard._

Gently, barely even making contact, she stroked the full length of his fringe. His bare skin had the texture of leather and the feel of a soft, pliable metal. _God_ was this a bad idea, because now all she wanted was more.

Before she had even finished that thought, he seemed to wake up just a little bit. Enough to purr slightly and lean his head into the pressure of her hand. She really couldn't help herself from doing it again, a little harder this time. He leaned forward now, resting his head against her abdomen.

She kept stroking his fringe, alternating between hard and gentle passes, each time earning a low rumble of contentment from deep in his throat. After a few minutes though, she was beginning to become worried.

_This was a dumb idea, Shepard. He doesn't even realize what's going on. You'll be even more head over heels tomorrow, and he won't even have any idea that this even happened._ She sighed slightly and thought wistfully, _he probably doesn't even realize it's YOU._

"Mmm… Shepard…" he muttered as he nuzzled her slightly. One of his arms came up and wrapped around her waist. She could feel a taloned finger start to make gentle circles on her back.

She really didn't know what to make of this. She went over the facts in her head.

1. He was drunk.  
>2. She was rubbing his fringe.<br>3. He seemed to be enjoying it.  
>4. He was rubbing her back.<br>5. _Hell yeah_ she was enjoying that.  
>6. Don't forget – he's still <em>drunk.<em>

Shepard frowned. She should just leave now. Let him think this was a dream if it even made it through his drunken stupor. Forget that she was enjoying the somewhat intimate contact with the guy she was totally infatuated with. She'd had fewer drinks. She still had control of all her mental facilities. She was his commanding officer. Goddamnit, she should be the responsible one here and just walk out and head to her quarters and finger fuck herself into a good night sleep.

In her defense, she really was about to follow through. She only looked down so that she could unhook his arm from her waist. She had every intention of tucking him in and then leaving the battery.

But as soon as she saw his massive erection, that plan went out the window.

Normally, it would've bothered her more to be taking advantage of him. He was drunk, as she kept trying to remind herself. But goddamnit, he wanted her right now. And right now she really did not care if it was just the alcohol. He'd probably want any female that happened to be stroking what she was now pretty sure was a turian erogenous zone. But as fortune would have it, at the moment that female was _her._

So instead of leaving – which the sober, rational part of her mind was telling her was still the best option – she got on the cot and straddled him.

He seemed surprised but didn't protest. In fact, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. He put his forehead against her chin and gently nipped at her neck.

Her mind was exploding. Heat was building everywhere. This was too good to be true.

_That's because it is – pull yourself together, Shepard, before you end up ruining your friendship!_

But it was easy to ignore that part of her as her hands traveled down his back to the bottom of his shirt. She tugged it up slowly and he leaned away from her just long enough for her to pull it off. She let it drop somewhere nearby, not really caring where it went. She was too busy soaking in his beautifully toned chest. It wasn't quite human enough to be attractive in the same way, but it had an exotic appeal to it that she couldn't ignore.

She finally lifted her eyes up to his face to see him watching her intently. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but she was worried he'd sober up any moment now.

Shepard smiled wickedly. Her only recourse was to keep going, get him so turned on that he wouldn't care if he suddenly realized what was going on. He was only a man after all.

So she started kissing his mandibles, gently tonguing them while her hands explored his fringe and neck. He grunted his approval and pulled her hips closer to his erection. One hand gradually made it down to his waist and teasingly caressed his cock, which quivered slightly at the contact.

"Shepard," he moaned into her hair.

Just hearing him say her name like that gave her chills. If she hadn't already been wet in anticipation for him, that alone would have done it.

She could feel his talons move down to the hem of her pants. He tugged at them in impatience, and she pulled away from him. She got up just long enough to pull them off and help him out of his – and taking the time to admire his leg spurs – before adding both to the growing pile of clothes by his terminal.

He pulled her back on top of him. He seemed to have no problems finding her entrance and positioned himself to enter her. He looked her in the eyes, a question there. When he found whatever answer he was looking for, he continued.

Her breath hitched in her throat as he entered her slowly. She bit her lip as he eased his way in. God was he big. She could barely hold him. It probably should have concerned her more, but she was too busy enjoying the ridges that lined his cock to care. Finally, he was completely inside of her.

"Garrus," she moaned as he pulled her up and lowered her down again. "Oh, Garrus…"

He seemed to like hearing her say his name because his talons dug into her and a predatory look came into his eyes.

It took them a while to set a good pace. His movements were a little choppy, the beer and liquor still swimming through his veins. But when they finally found one, they met it with barely strangled moans and cries.

He was biting her neck, her shoulder, her ear… Scratching her back, her thighs, her legs… She was kissing him, digging her nails into him, begging him for more. He filled her better than any human male she'd been with, combined sex and fighting in a way that appealed to her as a soldier.

When she came it was screaming his name into his neck. She really hoped she hadn't woken up any of the crew… She could feel him finish inside her, spilling his seed deep in her core and she moaned at just the thought of it. It sent shivers down her spine to hear him grunt her name.

He had passed out almost immediately after. The combination of booze and sex was too much for him. She disentangled their sweaty limbs and got off his little cot. She gingerly laid him on his side and pulled the blanket around him. She knelt beside him and ran her hand down his scarred cheek then kissed it gently.

As she pulled her pants and boots back on, she couldn't help but watch him sleep. He looked so peaceful. She wished she could just snuggle up against him, hold his warm body close…

But in the end, she thought it was easier to go with her original plan. Let him think he'd dreamed the whole thing. Or whatever he happened to remember. It'd be easier than having to explain how his superior officer had taken advantage of him while he was too drunk to understand what (who) he was getting himself into. So she left the main battery and slinked to the elevator, silently thankful that it was still too early for her (hungover) crew to be up for breakfast.

While Shepard made her way into the elevator, little did she know that Garrus' sleeping form was reaching out for his partner, only to find she was gone.


	2. Garrus

**AN:** Garrus' POV. Honestly, I got halfway through this and wanted to scrap the whole thing (thus the delay in posting). I didn't like being confined by first chapter, but in the end I just wanted to explore what was going through Garrus' mind and kept going. Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as the previous chapter.

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><p><strong>Drunken Fun<strong>

Garrus normally didn't drink. He didn't really care for the taste and as someone who was always expecting a fight to break out, he didn't like how it fucked with his senses. But today was an exception.

He'd helped Shepard and Samara take care of the Ardat-Yakshi, and Shepard had given the crew some much needed shore leave. Not that he didn't mind working on the ship. Spirits knew how much he loves calibrating.

But tonight, he really needed a drink. Or two. Or ten.

He'd always admired Shepard. Ever since they first met on the Citadel. He knew that. That much was obvious when she'd died and he'd felt a black hole in his life where she had been. He hadn't realized he'd been attracted to her until that mission she did with Kasumi. In that black dress… But it wasn't until she was alone with Morinth that he realized how much he cared about her. The thought of her being hurt… He shuddered at the very idea of it.

So now he was here, sitting alone at the bar in Afterlife, drinking away any desire he felt for his Commander. He was going to need a lot more drinks…

The turian bartender offered a slight distraction. At least he had someone to talk to who wasn't a member of the crew (because he was sure he was only two drinks away from spilling his guts and declaring his undying love for Shepard). And talking kept his eyes from wandering to where Shepard was seated thirty feet away (though he did sneak a couple glances every now and then).

Turns out it was only one more drink before he was spilling said guts.

Garrus was sure he was boring the bartender, but he couldn't help it. He was excitedly describing Shepard's prowess in battle. How she could intimidate a krogan Battle Master. That she looked so amazingly dangerous (which is, of course, turian for "hot") when she was charging into a fight. He kept babbling on and on about Shepard until the bartender's shift ended.

He noticed the crew filing out little by little. He considered heading back to the Normandy with them, but every time he thought about getting up, he'd see Shepard sitting alone at the end of the bar. He was really tired. And drunk. But he wasn't going to leave before she did. He felt duty bound – never mind his personal feelings – to stay there and look out for her. Even though, let's face it, in his current state he'd be useless if a fight broke out, nothing but dead weight. But still. It was the thought that count.

So he stayed where he was, ordered drink after drink (after drink…) until he could barely remember his name. At some point the last sober part of him wondered why he was drinking himself stupid instead of going over there to talk to her. But now it was probably for the best. He'd just make a fool of himself if he tried that now.

But eventually, he lost track of how many drinks he'd had. There were empty glasses cluttered around him. Whenever he tried to count them he'd get to about sixteen before he'd lose his place and then order another one. Which was probably why he didn't notice Shepard get up to leave until she appeared behind him.

"Garrus?" He nearly jumped out of his plating.

When he turned to look at her, he couldn't help but smile. She looked as amazing as ever.

"Shep-" he cursed himself as he hiccupped. He tried again. "Shepard." Did she notice how whenever he said her name it was like a caress? He hoped not. His smile grew. Oh how he loved this woman. He sighed slightly before adding, "I missed you."

_Oh shit. Did I just say that out loud?_

But to his amazement, instead of punching him, calling him on it or (worse) laughing in his face about it, Shepard's face when slightly pink. What did it mean when humans did that? He couldn't remember.

"Alright, Garrus, I think you've had a couple too many."

He shook his head and chuckled. He'd had _way_ too many. No doubt he'd spend the next morning emptying his gizzard. But, Spirits help him, there was no reason to let her know that. "I'm fine *hic* fine, Commander. Turians *hic* turians handle their liquor a little better than *hic* than you *hic* humans do."

_Good job, Vakarian. Smooooth._

_Shut up._

"Well," Shepard said, interrupting his internal berating. "That's good to hear soldier." She had an odd expression on her face that he couldn't figure out. Probably not even if he was sober. "Even so, why don't we get you back to the ship?"

"Mm 'kay." If she was leaving, he didn't have a reason to stay anyway. He slowly got up. Or at least, he meant to do it slowly. And he definitely meant to not fall. But the sudden movement after hours sitting combined with the alcohol in his system made him almost instantly fall over.

When Shepard caught him, he had to resist the urge to hug her.

"Alright, big guy, let's get you back to the Normandy."

Garrus knew he was babbling like an idiot. He wasn't even trying to make sense. But he needed to do something to distract himself from Shepard's arm around him, from his arm around her…

"C'mon Shepard… we can test my reach against your flexibility…"

Wait, he didn't just say that, did he? Spirits, would he mortified if he had. Based on the fact that he wasn't getting his ass handed to him probably meant he hadn't said it. Phew…

All too soon, they were in the main battery and she was helping him onto his cot. Though he usually found the hum of the guns comforting, right now it did nothing to calm him as he lost that precious contact with her hands…

As soon as he was on the cot, he fell back and bumped his head against the wall. It was just too much work to support his own weight. For some reason he was having a lot of trouble focusing his eyes. Blurry images of Shepard danced in and out of focus. Slowly they drifted close, too heavy for the turian to keep open.

_Damnit, why'd you have to go and drink so much, Vakarian?_ He cursed himself. He wanted to burn her face into his memory but his swirling mind could barely appreciate the fact that she was _there._ With _him._ So close…

And then suddenly she was even closer. She'd taken a step forward – he didn't know when – and was now inches away.

And then her hand was on his fringe.

His breathing hitched slightly in his throat. He let it out slowly in a purr. If he'd been more there, it would have been embarrassing to be there _purring_ in front of his commanding officer.

Garrus could feel his heart almost stop as he waited to see how she'd react. But then she stroked his fringe again, a little harder. Of all the things he expected her to do, that was probably last on his list.

He couldn't help it. He leaned into her hand, into her body. He wanted more contact.

Spirits, he _needed_ more.

If he were a gentleman (which normally he was), he would have signaled for her to stop. Turian fringes were… sensitive to the type of touches Shepard was so mercilessly bestowing. But he knew he was too far gone. It felt _too good._ And it was _Shepard._

"Mmm… Shepard…" he mumbled. He nuzzled her, wanting to surround himself in her intoxicating scent. Slowly his hand came up and started rubbing her back gently (he was pleased he had remember to be gentle with her breakable human body).

Really, he knew it was too good to be true. That eventually she'd back out and leave. But he couldn't stop his body from reacting to her touch. He waited for her to be offended, to become indignant at him. He knew it was coming. Any moment now. He tried to brace for the loss of her body. Spirits, he'd give anything for her to stay…

And then she was on top of him, straddling him, her hips pressing against his cock in a flirtatious way that _begged_ for more.

He was so scared she'd change her mind. Realize that it was _him_ she was on top of. That it was a _turian_. His arms were around her, pulling her close, desperate to keep her near.

The proximity was too much for him. He could feel her pheromones and the liquor working their way into the control centers of his brain. He was barely able to keep from biting her, instead he decided to nip in what he hoped was a playful manner. Oh how he wanted to break the skin…

But the impulse was lost as her hands made their way down his back and started pulling his shirt off. He watched her intently as she starred at his bare chest, worried she'd realize that a.) yes, he was indeed another species and b.) no, she did _not_ want to keep going. If she did, he'd be devastated. Not just because she'd leave him now – he could come to terms with that – but because that'd mean he'd _never_ have a shot with her.

And then she looked him in the eye, and there wasn't a trace of revulsion. In fact, there was nothing but mischief as she smiled at him and leaned in. He was vaguely concerned as her mouth played with his mandibles, her tongue exploring them as her hands explored his neck. He tried to remain completely still as he worried that she might get too close to his teeth. But she seemed to know what she was doing.

And as her hands traveled to his erection, he admitted with a satisfied grunt that she really _did_ know what she was doing.

"Shepard," he moaned into her hair. His hands made their way to her pants – which he hated for keeping them separated – but he realized he didn't have the dexterity at the moment to do anything about them short of tearing them apart. He was relieved when she got up and pulled them off, unceremoniously throwing them by the terminal. And he couldn't help but enjoy her hands on him as she slowly, teasingly took off his pants.

It was really too much for him. He needed to be inside her, filling her, right _now._ He roughly pulled her to him and positioned her hips above him.

Garrus looked her in the eyes. Wanted to know what she was thinking. If she realized who she was doing this with. Understood how much he wanted this, how much it meant to him. But then he realized that his body's need for her overpowered anything else. He didn't care if they'd both regret it in the morning, because right now at least, she was willing to be his.

He didn't really know a lot about human anatomy besides the basics. Wasn't sure how human males compared to turians. So just to be safe, he entered her slowly, taking the time to revel in how wet and tight she was. Better than any turian he'd ever been with, hands down. When he felt his tip graze her innermost wall, he took the time to enjoy the feeling of filling her completely.

"Garrus," she moaned as he pulled her up and lowered her down again. "Oh, Garrus…"

_Why'd she have to do that?_ he all but shouted. _Doesn't she know what she's _doing_ to me?_

Hearing her say his name like that knocked something lose. Drew out his predatory side more than he had planned. He could feel his talons breaking her skin. Could barely hold back the urge to bite down and force her submission.

Her tightness spoke volumes about human coupling. She could barely hold him. He tried not to let himself be overcome with male pride knowing that he was, in fact, the biggest to ever have her. If it weren't for the alcohol in his system, he was sure he'd be pounding her a lot harder. He let his drunken state set the pace. It was the only way he could be sure to be gentle enough.

They were both moaning and gasping, sweating and crying out. He was overcome by the depths of his feeling for the woman on top of him and kept marking her anywhere he could reach. Regret or no, he wanted there to be _proof_ this happened. He couldn't help but go a little harder and deeper than he should, wanting her to still feel this tomorrow. But he couldn't feel guilty when her heard her moan his name and claw at him. Spirits, how she wanted him. He was more than willing to oblige.

He branded it into his memory as she screamed his name in ecstasy.

He followed shortly behind her, filling her very depths with his desire. "Oh Shepard…"

His body went slack. He could feel it shutting down in his post-coital haze. He had lost his tenuous grip on the world around him. Didn't feel the passing of time as he should have. Garrus could sense her leaving. Tried to reach for her. He wanted to beg her to stay with him. Just for tonight.

_Just let me pretend for one night, Shepard..._

But in the end, his talons grasped nothing but air.


	3. I Never

**AN:** Figured it started with drinkin', it needed to end with some drinkin'. Also, I would not recommend drinking as much as Shepard and Garrus seem to. Apparently fighting the Reapers gives you super-endurance to liver damage and alcohol poisoning.

This will definitely be the last chapter in this fic. I needed to write something with a happier ending than some of the other stuff I've been writing lately. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy.

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><p><strong>Drunken Fun<br>I Never**

Shepard managed to stealthily avoid Garrus for the next few days. The first day wasn't hard. Hell, the whole crew was hungover and stayed in their respective quarters/lairs/random places they had decided to bunk. All she had to do was ignore the dull ache between her legs and the shiver that went down her spine whenever she thought about him.

The second day wasn't so bad either. They were still docked so all she had to do was get up early and head out. She cringed, though, realizing she had to resort to using _Omega_ (not exactly known for its lovely scenery) as a hiding place. But she managed to purchase some much needed upgrades, so really, it was a great cover.

The next few days were a little more awkward. She had to resort to using the duty roster to find out when his shifts were, then planned her duties around avoiding him. It wasn't until the sixth day (technically, five days, twenty hours and eleven minutes… but who was counting?) that she actually saw him. She was just finishing her dinner and about to head down to talk to Tali and Jack when he came out of the battery.

She tried not to blush, gave a small smile and a friendly wave as she dropped off her tray. She maintained eye contact just long enough to see him nod towards her, then retreated – at a _reasonable_ pace – to the elevator.

Before rounding the corner, she chanced a look back to see if he was watching her. He wasn't. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

_Well, at least if he remembers anything, he's not letting it affect his work._ That was a good thing.

Right?

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><p>Garrus had no idea what to think when he woke up the next morning. His thoughts were a blur and his memories of the previous night were more so. It gave him a headache just thinking about anything after the club, but he managed to piece together some images. Images of Shepard on top of him, moaning, calling his name-<p>

But it was hard to actually believe _that._ Hell, any male on this ship would jump at the chance to fuck Shepard (and Garrus had the nagging suspicion that some of the females would too), but she usually didn't mix business with pleasure. And certainly not with aliens. Not with _him._

So he let it go. As best he could, anyway. Didn't let his mind linger on the fact that he hadn't seen her since then. Told himself that night and his increased use of the shower were in no way connected. That he'd spend more time in the hot water than necessary, jerking off to memories that wouldn't fully form. Pretending the steamy drops of water were her hands working their way down his body. What the hell did any of that have to do with Shepard?

In the end, he had to admit to himself that something had changed, whether or not anything had actually happened. His nights were lonelier, his days were longer.

Slowly but surely, he found himself spending more of his free time with a bottle in his hand. Somehow it was the only thing that made his head less cloudy. Whenever he drank, he could still feel her hands on him, could still smell and taste her.

Which is how he found himself halfway between drunk and passed out a few weeks later, sitting alone in the mess hall. Not that he minded the alone part. He'd noticed how he had become worse company than usual lately, too distracted for conversation, no matter now trivial. He was quietly nursing a beer, listening to the gentle hum of the engines and the dimmed lighting when he heard the elevator move.

Up from engineering. Stopping at the CIC. Up some more. Top level. Only one person who would head up there this time of night…

He was on his feet and waiting for the elevator before he understood what his plan was. What was his plan, anyway? Go up, barge in on the Commander as she tried to go to bed? Demand a pity fuck and then be just as miserable tomorrow when she kicked him out of her cabin?

He still hadn't come to any decisions as he found himself outside her door.

Slowly, he counted to ten, trying to calm down. _You can still turn around, Vakarian. No need to make a complete fool out of yourself._

But then he imagined her in her underthings, climbing into her bed…

_Way to think with your dick,_ he berated himself as he knocked on the door.

The door was too thick, he couldn't hear any movement on the other side. Maybe she was already asleep. What was probably relief swept through him as he leaned on the door for support.

He almost fell on his face when the door slid open.

"Garrus!" Shepard cried as she tried to help him maintain balance. "Are you alright?"

"Fine! I'm fine!" he stammered as he more or less fell into her room, the door _whooshing_ shut behind him. His heart was beating faster and his breathing was more labored than it had been a minute ago. _It's because you almost fell. Not because the Commander's hand is still on your arm,_ he reminded himself.

"Do you want to take a seat?" She gestured to the couch with her free hand. "I was just about to go over some reports, but I don't mind the distraction."

_Just a distraction,_ he thought bitterly. "Sure," he tried to be lighthearted. He concentrated on getting down the stairs without tripping – a feat for anyone even a quarter as tipsy as he was feeling.

As he took a seat, Garrus took a moment to appraise the Commander. Shorts, a tank top… and nothing else as far as he could tell. _Because that's _totally_ going to help me focus._

She flopped down a few feet away from him, going for nonchalant. Did turians even do "nonchalant"? She almost giggled at the mental image.

Shepard wasn't sure what this was about. Something was obviously on his mind.

_- Or someone._

_- Quiet, you. If he wanted something… like that, he would've mentioned it weeks ago._

_- Well, Miss I'm-the-Commander-so-I'm-always-right, why IS he in your quarters at this ungodly hour looking all cute and awkward?_

_- Oh please, Garrus is perpetually cute and awkward and has never had a good concept of time. As far as I know he wants to discuss his latest set of calibrations._

Before her internal debate could go on, she realized that neither of them had said anything out loud since sitting down. "Something you wanted, Garrus?"

"Uh…" Hearing her speak snapped his attention back to her. This probably wasn't a good idea. Whatever had inspired him to come up here… Well, now that he was here, it had abandoned him. His nerve was gone and his insecurities were back. "Spirits," he leaned back and buried his face in his talons, "I need a drink."

Shepard smiled. "Well, that's something I might just be able to help you with, Officer Vakarian."

He couldn't help but watch her as she opened a minifridge next to her desk and pulled out two bottles. His mandibles twitched in amusement. "You just happen to have dextro-alcohol in your cabin?"

"Wellllll," she was pulling shot glasses out of the top drawer and filling them each to the top. "Tali's been coming up so we can catch up and reminisce and all that stuff us girls do, and last time she forgot her booze."

"Hmm, I'll drink to that."

"To Tali forgetting her... 'Flotillan Ale'? God, that sounds terrible."

"Good a reason as any."

* * *

><p>An hour and five shots later and Shepard had caught up to Garrus' respectable buzz. They'd been babbling about who knows what (they sure didn't). Really, it was whatever came to mind except what they both actually wanted to get off their chests.<p>

"I've never laughed at one of Joker's 'jokes.'"

She let the vodka wash away her annoyance. "Yeah, well… I've never been to Palaven."

"You're cheating. You may as well say 'I've never been turian.'"

"Drink up, Vakarian."

He made a face. This really was cheap liquor. And he always thought Tali had had good taste... "I never died."

"Ass." She took another shot. "I never got three bands of mercs to team together to take me out."

"You're still young." He chuckled and took his drink. "I should get a goddamn medal for that one by the way." His fingers twitched on the glass as the liquor burned its way down. He was surprised he could still feel it. "I've never been made a Spectre."

"C'mon Vakarian, don't be too jealous." She took her shot.

"Weren't you _re_instituted as a Spectre?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "I think that means you need to take another-"

She laughed and winked. "Only 'cuz you're so cute, you turian bastard." She didn't see the way his eyes widened as she said it. "Speaking of- _I've_ never kissed a female turian." She half-hoped he wouldn't notice she'd had to specify the gender…

His eyes never left hers as he took a drink. "I've never kissed a _male_ human."

She blushed. _Oh god, did he…_ She took a drink. "I've never bitten anyone during sex."

He moved closer after he swallowed. "I've never fucked someone under my command."

She didn't bother taking a drink. He was a couple inches away now, but like hell she was going to back down. "I've never fucked my commanding officer."

"I've never-"

Shepard didn't let him finish. Instead she pulled him in by the collar and kissed him, running her tongue along his jagged teeth. She pulled away briefly, foreheads still touching. "Bed. Now."

"Yes, m'am."

It was surprising that they even managed to get their clothes off, disoriented as they were. Not to say they didn't fumble and tear some things.

When she was finally undressed, he gently tossed her on the bed. He took a moment to look her naked form over. Spirits he actually wanted to remember it this time. And Spirits, she was beautiful. Alien, yes. Different, yes. But still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

To say she was terrified when he looked at her like that was an understatement. She'd rather face Saren again than face his rejection right now. Why would he want her now that he knew it was her?

But then he was inside of her and she completely forgot her worries. It just felt too damn good for her to sustain coherent thought right now.

"I've never wanted to fuck a human until I met you," he growled as he started moving in and out. His talons were digging in, finding the same spot they had claimed a few weeks ago. "And I'm going to make sure you never want to fuck another human ever again."

"Cocky… bastard," she grunted, trying to meet his pace but god she could barely keep up. "Just… shut up… and go… deeper…"

Each thrust was hard and just on the brink of being painful. He seemed intent on forcing their way to a mind-shattering climax. The aggressive display surprised her – it was something that had been missing the last time. Granted, he had been barely conscious… But still, she was surprised he had it in him to be so… _primal._

As she got closer and closer, she felt her moans getting louder and louder. One hand clenched at the sheets, the other desperately grabbed his cowl.

He was starting to wear himself out. He could only maintain a pace like this for so long… But he ignored the cramp beginning to build in his leg and kept going, letting her cries drive him on. When she arched into him, when he felt her core convulse around him, heard her shout his name in ecstasy, he finally let his body find relief. He pulled her close as he filled her, growling in a satisfied way he knew was anything but human.

Garrus rolled onto his side, Shepard following. She hooked one leg around his waist and rested an arm on his back. He watched as her eyes closed lazily and her breathing slowed. He cradled her gentle against his chest, taloned hand stroking her human hair.

For the first night in a long time, they both slept soundly.


End file.
